


Weak Spot

by NastyRatBoy



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Horror, NSFW, Orgasm, Other, Pain Kink, Slasher, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, climax, gender neutral reader, humping, light gore, nasty rat man, slasher imagination, we need more chop top content!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 11:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18916150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NastyRatBoy/pseuds/NastyRatBoy
Summary: Remember that Chop Top gets off when scratching the right spot with his coathanger thing? ...Yeah, me too. Actually I didn't wanted to post it, cause my writing skills are still just as bad as my english, but there is way too less Chop Top content out there! So...enjoy...I guess?*i'm so sorry*





	Weak Spot

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings: Mention of cutting and skin picking!**
> 
>  
> 
> If you're triggered by these topics pls don't read.

It has been a long day and you’ve seen Chop Top only at the breakfast table. Not only the drenching heat seemed to suck the energy literally out of your body, but working with Drayton was no picnic either. You thought he was a nice guy after getting to know him closer, well more or less nice, but sometimes he was just sawing on your last nerv rambling on about his great cooking skills and fabulous, prizewinning chilli. It was even worse than hearing him yell all the time. Today has been such a day and no matter how hard you tried, you just haven‘t been able to black out his jabbering into white noise.

The more you have been looking forward for the sun to finally set, dinner being over and eventually being able to spend some time with your frowsy boyfriend. Alone! And there was a place you two always had for yourselves alone. The roof. Bubba was way too afraid to come up there, he even complained everytime you two had been at your hideout, fearing you could fall down and acidentally kill yourselves. And Drayton? The grump would never admit it, but even for changing a light bulb he actually needed three hands. Two for holding onto something for dear life and one to change the light bulb. You hadn’t to worry about him either. No one would disturb you two, the only company being the stars and the moon in the nightsky.

The shingles were warming your back, the heat of the sun still lingering in the brittle wood. It would’ve been unpleasant, but the light breeze picking up equated it. You closed your eyes for a moment, thanking who ever for the slight movement of the air that swirled the standing heat, bringing at least a little bit of relieve. Next to you the shingles creaked and cracking an eye open you saw Chop Top gesturing around with his hands, pointing at different spots in the dark sky while talking about ufos and extraterrestrials. His blue eyes glistened with joy, his voice just that little bit too loud for a normal conversation as it always was. Actually you loved to listen to him rambling on about whatever strange stuff was going on inside his head. And that was a lot! It must’ve been a real chaos inside there with him only being quiet when eating or sleeping and some times not even then. He twitched when your finger suddenly layed onto his lips, distracting him enough to shut him up. „That’s really interesting and you know how much I enjoy listening to you, but please, please grant me some silence ok? I had to listen to your brother the Whole. Damn. Day. and that has been enough for at least the next three weeks.“. Your finger lingered on his lips while silence stretched between you. Leaning over him you were able to see the gears in his head run, searching for an answer. It came in a stretch under your finger, his chapped lips forming into a wide, understanding grin. „Should’ve poked him with the broom.“, he giggled developing into hysteric laugher. It not only shook his own body, but yours as well and as contagious his laugher was, there was not more than a small smirk you could manage to muster up. Sighing your head weakly dropped into the crook of his neck and as thick as a brick Chop was able to be, he took the hint and his laugher creased into small giggles again. „Ooooh poor thingy.“, he cooed not trying to hide the sarcasm inside his voice, he was never able to hide what he truely meant. Your arm already rose, about to give him a punch into the rips when his sneacked around your back, closing you into a gentle hug. It was the sudden pleasant warmth of his body and your drenched state that let your arm sink again and snake around his neck. His hands crawled under your shirt and the roughness send a cozy feeling through your body. Your boyfriend wasn’t one for neat body hygiene and though it has been hard to get used to it, meanwhile it didn’t bothered you anymore. In the beginning you had tried to move him to take better care of himself, but there’s been just no use. His hands of course were no exception. The nails never manicured, they either broke off or he chewed them down, blood and other filth sticking under them, the rest of his hands just fitting, always covered in some kind of nasty stuff you would rather not know what exactly it was. You had urged him to wash them regulary, but everytime he did, under great protest of course, it only took a few minutes for him to cover them in new muck. But as dirty they were, as gentle they could be. Though his movements always were antsy and clumsy, the way the rough skin stroked over your back made you melt into his embrace. You felt his lips on your neck, placing sloppy kisses on the senstive skin. His crooked teeth nibbling here and there and you couldn’t help but to think that his mouth really always needed something to do. As you relaxed against his body, your hand slowly wandered up over the back of his head, lazily playing with the scattered strands of dark hair. A deep humm told you how much Chop enjoyed your touch, his head leaning back into your hand. You didn’t know why and you guessed he didn’t know either, but touching and caressing his scalp always did it to him. He would demand it every night you two went to bed, falling asleep an your chest while you gently dragged your fingernails over his scalp. Sometimes you did it so long your hand would get numb, but everytime you would stop it would result in a grunt, asking you to go on. His head tilted to the side when you reached the edge of his plate. You felt his fingers dig into the flesh of your back while he nearly purred like a cat. The edges were frayed, abused by the coathanger he always used to scratch. Sometimes he scratched so much it begin to bleed and no matter how often you told him to stop, it wouldn’t take long until the coathanger was there again. „You really should stop it or one day it’ll get infected.“, mumbling it you already knew it wouldn’t happen. „B-but it itcheeees…“, he whined, leaning his head into your touch even more when your fingers massaged a little bit firmer. Actually you tried to avoid to touch this area of his head, not wanting to make it even worse, but you were too tired to worry about it anymore. He would drag out the hanger anyways, your light touch shouldn’t worsen it.

Your fingers absently ran all around the plate, when Chop Top suddenly gasped and his body gave a violent jolt. You pulled your hand back instantly, beginning to stutter a surprised „sorry“, but your wrist was grasped tight and your hand guided back to where it was. „What?“, you asked looking at him with great confusion. There was no answer only a pleading gaze of the bright blue eyes and the grip around your wrist tightening. With hesitation your fingers began to move again, stroking a spot where he obviously had scratched intensly. The skin was crustey, but it gave in soon revealing raw flesh. You tried to pull your hand away again, literally feeling the burn on your own scalp, but he firmly held it in place. It was then you noticed the expression on his face. Eyes closed his lips were parted slightly, unfamilary silent only quiet panting reaching your ears. His brows were furrowed and his cheeks hinted a faint flush, the usually pale skin changed into a light tone of rose. He pushed your fingers down onto that spot again harder than you ever would, a small ammount of blood starting to moistening them. But the reaction he gave wasn’t showing pain. He moaned quietly, the noise dying in his throat as you watched his face the brows raising, but furrowing no less. No that wasn’t pain, not even pleasureable pain. You knew his reaction to that kind of stimulation, has he demanded you to cut him a few times before. It wasn’t the hysteric and uncontrolled expression of arousal that came everytime the blade opened up his skin. This was different. He seemingly wasn’t able to controll this as well, but it came off somewhat deeper, way more intense than just plain arousal. While your mind tried to find an explaination, his hand had grabbed yours and his fingers guided yours bringing pressure and a circling movement to the abused skin. He moaned constantly now, little noises that vibrated through his chest, his head tilting even more to the side and pressing against your touch. His free hand rested on the small of your back and you felt it shake while he held you close. Still trying to figure out what the hell was going on your gaze left his face, looking between you two when his hips suddenly began to buck against you. A pang of heat hit right into your guts when you felt his clothed erection rub against your tight and slowly it dawned you that there was a reason why just this spot was scratched so bad. That little Fuck got off who knows how often using his damn coathanger and left you out in the cold! There was a certain urge to pull away your hand and wallow in Chop‘s interrupted pleasure, but besides knowing that he would probably force your hand back no matter how hard he had to grip you, you were fascinated by how simply scratching that spot made him behave. Concentrating on his face again, you started to move your fingers on your own. His grip losened and your curiousity got the best of you. You adjusted the pressure a few times, watching what it did to him. His unrestrained nature made it easy to notice every single detail and when you strocked the spot with your thumb, massaging with just enough pressure to feel the plate underneath the thin skin Chop cried out, twisting his hand in the fabric if your shirt. „That’s it huh?“, you asked softly, a little bit disappointed that his eyes were squeezed shut so he couldn’t see the smug smile you weren’t even trying to hide. The answer was a row of high pitched whines, his hips rolling faster, humping your leg like a desperate puppy. Though you were still pissed that he did this all the time without even telling you about the spot, the way he grinded against your thigh and the sound of his whines made the heated knot in your stomach tighten. He would’ve to make up for it, pay back what he withheld from you, but first you wanted to fully turn him into a whimpering and panting mess. Pressing your leg firmer against his trapped cock, your thumb pushed down harder onto the sore skin. Your strocking fastened, just as if you were jerking him off being on the home stretch. The way he bit his lower lip urged a deep growl to escape your throat and with a few more firm strokes you send him over the edge. His hips stuttered and his lips parted again shining with saliva. He was never able to controll the volume of his voice and you were sure his brothers in the house underneath you were able to hear him shamelessly crying out his pleasure, but you gave a flying shit about that. Smiling, you allowed him to ride out his orgasm, slowly drawing away from him and watching his body twitch with the aftershocks, enjoying the show.

He was laying there, a super stupid grin on his face and a wet spot on his pants, his eyes still closed. Oh, he would make up for this. „Enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?“, you asked watching him nod his head lazily without looking up at you, „Who’s better? The coathanger or me?“. To that his eyes flew open, spotting you already crawling over him and straddling his hips. Every other guy would’ve been embarrassed to no end being caught getting off with a coathanger, but Chop Top wasn’t like any other guy and his answer wasn‘t surprising you at all. „H-have to do it a few times more to f-form an opinion.“, he grinned, his hazy eyes sparkling with mischief while his hands already grabbed your waist. „Oh, we will…But first you’ll pay back!“.


End file.
